


Just Write For Me

by erikaehm



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikaehm/pseuds/erikaehm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hilde picked it up at the sex shop she never thought it would be Wufei's...thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Write For Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StealthLiberal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealthLiberal/gifts).



> Wufei is a legal adult.

Wufei grimaces lightly in distaste when a familiar hand smacks down over his shoulder, nearly knocking him sideways. The braid that accompanies this particular friend whips around to snack against the centre of his back and he grunts. "Maxwell." His tone is displeased, but if he were being truthful, he's kind of glad to see Duo. Their missions as of late haven't given them much time to see each other.

"Hey." For someone with so thin a frame, the deep voice is startling. Wufei still sometimes finds himself confused. "Hilde asked me to drop this to ya." There's a glint in Duo's eyes that never fails to make Wufei weary. The braided mechanic laughs loudly. "Have fun." He gives Wufei a wink then shoves the box into his hands, darting away.

Before Wufei can even get another word out, the tip of the braid is lashing around the corner. He deflates with a sigh and glances at the package in his hands.

Immediately he regrets it. There's very lewd...breasts on the cover of the box, dripped with what appears to be paint making random patterns. The kit says it includes all basic colors and two different sized brushes. He feels the blood rush to his face and storms to his cubicle, shoving it into a bottom drawer and thanking whatever deity is listening that no one saw him carrying that...monstrosity.

And that's that. He locks the drawer, content to forget about it until he can safely sneak it out to toss in the garbage.

***

Wufei can't forget about it.

By Friday afternoon that thrice damned box has caused at least six inappropriate erections and three overly long bathroom breaks that make the few agents in his office give him concerned looks.

What doesn't concern anyone though is when he stays late that Friday, hunched over his keyboard and typing away muttering about pulling overtime to check over a few junior agents files.

Everyone else trickles out slowly. By the time the clock flickers to six, the office is empty and dark.

That package is shoved into his jacket and he beelines for his bike. He notes, absently, that Trowa's red monstrosity is still beside his sleek beauty. It's strange to see Barton around the office but he shrugs it off when he remembers Quatre is in town - he shakes that thought off quickly, not wanting the mental images associated.

Friday night is date night.

The thought sends a weird thrill up him and be grunts, picking up speed on the bike and weaving in and out of traffic recklessly.

It's an hour drive to Sally's from the office. He makes it in twenty five.

He presses the buzzer and waits to be let in.

Their Friday nights consist of whatever Sally picks up and a bottle of Shiraz. The wine is resting on the table in her little dining room, open, and she's set out two plates; roasted chicken with vegetables. It's an easy meal prepared by the local deli and one they've shared before.

He drapes his jacket, package tucked safely away, over the armchair in her sitting room before padding silently into the dining area.

She senses him more than sees him. She told him once that the pilots give off their own energy - told him that it draws other people in like moths to a flame.

She straightens and turns, smiling faintly when their eyes meet. She's lit candles now, and the light dances off her features in a way he's never noticed before.

"You're here earlier than usual." She says, voice low. Her smile widens when he shifts uncomfortably, gaze drifting down his body.

His face heats but he doesn't try to hide it.

Sally is cruel though.

She gestures to dinner and sits.

He sighs through his nose and forces himself into his place at her table, eating mechanically and not really tasting anything.

She always looks so different outside of her uniform. Today it's a pale button up top with the three top buttons undone. A simple black necklace - gundanium, his mind whispers, and he remembers when he gave it to her - hangs around her neck. The charm on it is a simple black cat with a single gold eye (an inside joke of theirs - their first time in bed when he spat cougar at her and she whispered back pussycat, tongue curling against his flesh in a way that made his eyes roll) tickles at the top of her cleavage.

When she puts her fork down be grits out "What did you pick up for dessert?"

And Sally takes mercy on him, taking in the white knuckled grip he has on her table and the half eaten meal on his plate. "Nothing."

He moves away from the table at once. "Good."

They don't make it as far as the bedroom. She's taller than him but he's faster than her and a well maneuvered twist of his leg has them tumbling to the carpet in front of her fireplace. It's electric, with fake flames. Not as pretty as the real thing but that's not more than an afterthought as his fingers pluck at the rest of her buttons, tugging her shirt out of her pants.

"This isn't like you." She muses, hand lifting to tug at his hairtie. Her hair had already been loose, falling in thick sandy curls across her shoulders. Now it cushions her head as she tilts it back, moaning lightly as his teeth sink into the curve of her breast, just above her bra line. She likes it though; when Wufei doesn't look to her for direction but takes charge.

"Maxwell -" he starts. Stops to open her pants and start sliding them down her legs, along with her dull cotton underwear.

"Maxwell...?" She echoes curiously, helping him by sitting up and unclasping her bra and stripping it off with her shirt. She lays back down, naked and warm, watching him with half lidded eyes as his palms slide hesitantly up the outside of her thighs, callouses catching on old scars.

"He - and Hilde. Gave me something that I..." He clears his throat, searching for words. "That I would like to try."

Duo and Hilde are harmless. She smiles again and rests fully now, gesturing at herself and closing her eyes. "Be my guest." She stretches once, languid, before settling.

Sally likes an element of surprise every now and again. She listens, taking in the faint whisper of cloth as Wufei strips, carefully laying his clothes aside. There's a rattling sound like he's opening something. She laughs silently, wonders what weird thing Maxwell has unleashed upon her.

He rustles around for long minutes. She feels herself melt further, relaxed. There's something about Wufei - no. There's something about all the pilots that once you're on their good side it's like you can breathe for the first time, content to bask in their firelight and know they'll protect you.

The first touch lands below her navel. It's firm and wet: too firm to be ticklish but as it moves, delving lower, the wetness cools on her flesh and makes her shiver. She tries to imagine what he's doing.

So calculated.

Every touch is slow, delicate yet strong handed. She can't for the life of her make out what it is but refuses to open her eyes. He hasn't asked her to, and it's almost as if an unspoken request.

Her thighs. The column of her throat. Her stomach. It trails along her left side, stroking over her ribs and she purrs at the feeling even as it pulls away only to return to her bare right breast. He goes on and on until she's dripping a puddle into the carpet that will be a bitch to clean and it's all she can do not to roll her hips and tell him to get a move on.

After what feels like forever he stops. She can sense him settling between her splayed thighs, skin rising in goosebumps as she feels his eyes slide across her flesh, more tangible than his hand had been.

Finally, Sally opens her eyes.

She licks her lips and sits up enough to cast a glance down at her body. Her heart skips. Stops. Restarts in overdrive and even if she could talk. She wouldn't have the words to say what she feels inside.

Elegantly scripted Chinese trails across her body. She struggles to read the characters.

Before she'd met Wufei the words would have just been scratches on paper. He'd spent painstaking hours teaching her what she'd never been allowed to learn.

His lessons pay off as she reads the story etched into her flesh with the glossy black paint. It's a basic one but words like love and beauty and strength stoke fire that's been building inside of her since the first touch of the brush.

Her eyes are glassy as her head snaps up, as she gasps his name breathlessly.

He kiss her with the ferocity he displays on the battlefield. She tries to meet it, falters, and his mouth rips away onto to find her throat.

His tongue laps warm against her and she groans, shifting to give him more space. He pulls back long enough to breathe out "chocolate" in a curious tone before he continues down to clean the rest of his mess.

He ends at her cunt. She taught him how to do this the third time they laid together and now, when his tongue curls deep into her and he sucks she doesn't know if she regrets it or worships it.

She's been on the edge for so long that she comes embarrassingly fast, tugging at his silky black hair and all but screaming.

When she comes back to herself she has the mind to grab his arm, say his name - "Wufei." Because it was good but not enough.

"I know." Is all he says in return, strong hands hitching her hips high enough that he can slide home.

There's no more elegant slowness. It's rough, sloppy. He buries his face in her chest, one hand worming between then to sink a thumb right against her clit.

It doesn't last long; it couldn't. Three final shuddering thrusts inside of her before he drops his head to her breast. They stay there on the floor, breathing heavily.

His tongue sneaks out to trail against the skin he finds. It traces one simple word. Over and over.

Sally cards her hands through his hair, half asleep and murmurs to the quietness of the room, "I love you too."


End file.
